


Full disclosure

by kirinokisu



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, POV Outsider, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:17:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirinokisu/pseuds/kirinokisu
Summary: In which Lance witnesses something suspicious by complete accident, learns something new, and decides to meddle in someone else’s love life. It goes about as well as expected.





	Full disclosure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xladysaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/gifts).



> This one's for Adri, also known as the biggest enabler in my life. Ilu so, so much. Even when you torture me with your beautiful writing and lethal headcanons. You're entirely too sweet and kind to me, always the highlight of my day, and I have no idea what I would do without you. (Definitely not write.) Happiest of (now super belated bc I suck) birthdays, my love. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Set during second season. Not to be taken very seriously.

It starts, unsurprisingly, with Lance. As most things tend to in the Castle of Lions.

They’ve just returned from another successful rescue mission—followed by all the jolly festivities, of course—and got to enjoy a few unexpected days off while Allura is busy focusing her efforts on diplomacy and other no doubt important things that are bearable only because of her presence. Not that Lance has seen her this morning, despite prowling the castle at such an ungodly hour, still in his pyjamas and a steaming mug of something that tastes remotely like tea in hand.

Honestly, he has no idea why he’s even awake. Could boredom prevent you from sleeping? If so, Lance doesn’t understand why his brain decided to do this—awake, he’s even more bored.

He finds Hunk in the kitchen, battling with something gooey and green but sparing Lance a freshly baked muffin lookalike, also gooey and green, before dismissing him; Pidge in the lab, surrounded by cords and drones and other faintly whizzing things.

But no Allura. Or the mice.

Resigned, Lance considers the option of Coran, even at the risk of potentially lethal chores. He still has nightmares from that time the castle tried to kill him, thank you very much.

He stops when he spots a shadow stretched across the shiny hallway floor, long and dark and menacing. A hundred possibilities cross Lance’s mind at the speed of light—most of them ending in him heroically protecting Allura from whatever danger lurks in this part of the ship. Silent as a ninja, he ducks behind a corner and peeks.

Only to find Keith walking away from a softly closing door.

_Strange._

Normally, Keith and Shiro would be on the training deck at this hour, especially on the day off. Both of them have always been early risers and mildly obsessed—Shiro because he’s Shiro, and Keith because he’s stubborn as fuck. So what is Keith doing here, by himself?

_Very strange._

Something else dawns on Lance then.

“Hey, wait a minute!” He jumps out of his hiding spot without hesitation. “This isn’t your room. What are you doing sneaking out of Shiro’s?”

Disappointingly, Keith doesn’t jump in surprise, nor does he let out any embarrassing sounds. But he does look extra suspicious as he shushes Lance first with a glare, then a gloved palm against his mouth.

“Lower your voice!” he hisses. “You’ll wake Shiro.”

Lance is so surprised he stops struggling for a moment, which gives Keith opportunity to drag him farther down the hallway, away from whatever it is he’s hiding. Lance protests audibly, but Keith is relentless, and the words come out muffled.

When they do eventually stop, Keith makes a show of wiping his palm clean. “Ugh, _gross_.”

“That’s what you get for trying to silence me!”

“You were being loud. Still are.” He sounds accusing, of all things. And Lance is suddenly reminded of the mystery he still hasn’t solved.

He eyes Keith suspiciously. “What did you do to Shiro?”

“What? Why would I—I didn’t do _anything_ to Shiro. What are you even talking about?”

“Oh yeah? Then why’s he still sleeping? Instead of working on his already impressive guns like usual. Someone should really tell him enough is enough, by the way.”

Keith scowls. “None of your business.”

“Seriously, what did you do?”

“None. Of your. Business.”

“So you _did_ do something? I knew it!”

“ _Lance._ ”

There’s something in his voice, in his posture that Lance knows he should focus on—something so reminiscent of _Shiro_ , he realises—but some sort of epic gut feeling prevents him from doing so. Keith looks _weary_ , and it’s not just the dark circles under his eyes that broadcast it to the world.

Lance is determined to get to the bottom of this, but perhaps interrogation is not the way to go. _Yet_.

“Okay, okay, be that way. But know that I’m watching you, punk,” is what he tells Keith, before walking away. Backwards, of course, for a more dramatic effect.

 

-

 

“What would Keith be doing in Shiro’s room?” Lance asks about an hour later, perched on an armrest in the lounge area, watching Hunk tinker with an ancient-or-maybe-just-alien game console they stumbled upon by complete accident in the space mall.

“Is that a trick question?”

“Or rather, sneaking out of it, in the early morning hours, with Shiro still asleep?”

“Huh,” Hunks says, scratching at his chin with a screwdriver. Then shrugs and goes back to the pile of weirdly-shaped parts and tiny little screws arranged in a complex puzzle on the floor. “I guess they were dating after all.”

Lance spits Coran’s newest concoction that for once actually tastes nice. “ _Say what_?”

“I mean, it was kinda obvious. You know, with the constant touching, and the soulful gazes, and the way they’re always _together_ , but they never said anything, so I figured it was something we all knew but didn’t comment on, you know? Well I guess it still is, unless Keith admitted it to you. Did he?”

He looks up at Lance, curious.

“Wait wait wait, hold on! _Dating_? Keith and _Shiro_?”

“I guess he didn’t, huh? Bummer. It’s getting a little embarrassing just watching them.”

“Shiro _and Keith?_ ”

More liquid is spilled on the pristine leather of the couch, this time from the cup Lance is gesticulating with, but Lance doesn’t notice. Until it’s taken right from his hand and he’s left grasping empty air.

“Careful, Lance,” comes from behind. “Coran won’t appreciate the stains.”

“Shiro!” Lance not-squeaks. _And Keith_ , his mind supplies, still stuck in a loop.

Shiro raises an eyebrow. He looks even worse than Keith, Lance notes belatedly, some of the shock seeping away at seeing how hollow Shiro’s eyes look, even from Lance’s awkward upside-down angle. Yet Shiro’s concern is still genuine as ever. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Hunk echoes, chuckling nervously. “Of course nothing’s wrong! Why would anything be wrong? We’re just, you know, talking. About things.”

Shiro doesn’t look particularly convinced, but being Shiro, he lets it go. Or maybe it’s because Keith chooses that exact moment to appear in the doorway.

“Hey, there you are. Been looking for you.”

It’s a scene Lance has witnessed countless of times before: Keith approaching Shiro with a smile, Shiro placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. The two of them just standing there. Ignoring everyone and everything else.

But it is only now, with the knowledge seared in his brain, that Lance actually pays attention to it. And _sees_. A lot.

The lack of proximity, for one. And not just where Shiro’s palm is resting casually on Keith’s shoulder, as if it belongs there. The silence that speaks volumes as they just _stare_ into each other’s eyes. Like they haven’t seen each other in months. The barely-there _smile_ tugging at the corners of Keith’s lips. Keith, whose default reaction to _everything_ is a scowl on the best and happiest of days.

Shiro’s worse though. Much worse. Because he doesn’t even bother hiding it.

 _It’s a scene straight out of those romantic movies Veronica loves to watch on Friday nights,_ Lance realises with abject horror. Not that he himself has seen any of them, of course.

Maybe Hunk does have a point. Maybe Shiro and Keith really are dating.

 

-

 

“Oh, they’re not dating,” Pidge says, not even glancing up from the screen—or screens. As usual, she’s hunched cross-legged on her favourite stool in the lab, surrounded by a mess of alien tech. The tiny drone hovering above her head blinks green in a greeting.

Mildly offended, Lance crosses his arms. Whatever reaction he’s been expecting at the breaking news, it sure wasn’t this. “What do you mean they’re not dating? Have you _seen_ the two of them?”

“To be fair, you didn’t see them until like an hour ago,” Hunk points out unhelpfully.

Pidge snorts. “You mean how the two of them just go soft and mushy and blind whenever they’re in close proximity of each other? And by close, I mean in the same room. Yeah, I’ve noticed. Wish I hadn’t. Some things you just can’t unsee.”

Hunk nods sagely in agreement. “Oh yeah, remember that time Keith fell asleep on Shiro’s lap during movie night?”

“Still hoping to forget.”

“Yeah, me too. Who knew Shiro was capable of such full-on, red-as-a-tomato, neck-to-forehead blush.” The memory alone makes Hunk shudder. Wistfully, he adds, “I miss tomatoes.”

“Guys,” Lance interrupts. “I can see you’re having a moment, or whatever, but can we focus?” He remembers that night too: Coran had procured an old Altean movie, a classic if he was to be believed, and he somehow convinced all of them to watch it. To bond, or whatever. Hunk had even managed to make some equivalent of popcorn, albeit bright blue and less crunchy. Which turned out to be the only enjoyable thing that night, because the movie sucked so bad most of them fell asleep not even halfway through; Keith, indeed, on Shiro’s lap. Lance had snickered throughout the entire trip to the sleeping quarters, because Shiro had to _carry_ Keith like some swooning princess. “For how long has this been going on anyway? Whatever _this_ even is. Are you sure they’re not dating? ‘Cause it sure looks to me like they are.”

Accepting the tragic truth that no work will be getting done until the issue at hand is dealt with, Pidge spins around on her stool and sighs heavily. “What brought this on anyway?”

“Lance saw Keith leave Shiro’s room this morning. _Very suspiciously._ Or so he says.”

“Hey!” Lance protests, because he’s a very reliable source, always.

“I see,” Pidge hums eloquently. “To answer your earlier question: it’s not me who hasn’t noticed the looks, and the hugs, and the touches—god, the _touches_. It’s _them_.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the soothing background noise of powered-up tech devices. Disturbed only by the impatient tapping of Lance’s shoe against the floor.

“Oh,” Hunk says. “Oh, _I see_. That makes sense. Yeah. Of course. I don’t know why I expected anything else.”

“I don’t know why you did either.”

Lance’s foot picks up speed.

“What Pidge means,” Hunk explains, “is that yes, Shiro and Keith are definitely dating. They just kind of don’t know it. Because, you know. It’s Shiro and it’s Keith.”

Lance pauses. Thinks the words over for a moment. Then feels his grin stretch wide and mischievous.

“Oh no,” comes from Hunk. For some reason he’s backing away. “Oh no. Whatever it is you’re thinking… It’s better to leave them alone. Let them figure it out at their own pace.”

With two heavy hands on Hunk’s shoulders, Lance drags him back into the room. “Weddings, Hunk. I’m thinking weddings. Do you know how many single ladies attend those things?”

“Pidge? A little help?”

Pidge’s shrug is the epitome of disinterest. “You brought this on yourself when you made him see.”

What she doesn’t realise until Lance pulls her closer, huddling all three of them together, is that she’s part of The Plan, too. “Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

 

-

 

Lance's plan is both brilliant and foolproof, no matter what Pidge's long sigh doesn't say. It's easy, too. In theory.

The thing about Shiro and Keith is that they gravitate towards each other so very easily it's no job at all to get them in the same tiny room, suspiciously close to each other. So much so they don't even notice when the rest of the team slowly trickles out of the small separate recreation area next to the main lounge. With minimum sneaking involved.

Another thing about Shiro and Keith, however, is that left to their own devices, they get progressively worse about their very much obvious and very much mutual pining.

"Do they plan to just silently stare at each other with those big mooning eyes? 'Cause let me tell you, we've seen this particular movie scene many times and, sweet as it is, I've really got better things to do. There's this new ingredient I found..."

Lance shushes Hunk with a gentle nudge in the ribs and turns back to the grainy picture on the monitor. Installing a hidden camera in the lounge room—temporarily, Pidge assured—was their very first step, executed early in the morning. It's not the best quality and the audio is tinny, but seeing as so far, the conversation on the other end has either been a terrible exchange of weirdly natural compliments or simply non-existent... It'll do, for now.

"There's no point in this," Pidge agrees. She's been getting more and more bored with each passing second. Lance can't blame her. "They spend time with each other every day. And so far? They've made no progress." The three of them wouldn't be here right now if they had.

"Which is why," Lance explains with appropriate amount of smugness, "we are about to initiate step two of our plan."

Loudly, Pidge drains a juice carton through the short plastic straw. Then crushes the empty package with one hand and throws it aggressively into a trash can. " _Your_ plan. I still fail to see how locking these two disasters in a tiny room and turning on the fire sprinkler system could possibly make them confess their undying love for each other." She stops any retorts with a non-negotiable palm up gesture. "I know, I know. You told me three times total that they'll get wet, and they'll have to strip, and with nowhere to go…"

"All of their repressed sexual tension will finally explode!"

"I thought this was about romance?"

"Well, that too. But you gotta start somewhere."

"What concerns me," Hunk interjects, "is whether we should be doing this right now? When the castle is running on the fraction of its power? Coran is not going to be pleased with us."

Lance's shrug is half confidence, half nonchalance. "Please, he's a sucker for romance."

Hunk is not convinced. "True, but..."

"What's taking so long anyway? Pidge?"

"Don't rush me. The ship's fire prevention system is very advanced, and very complicated. But so beautifully designed, too—I love Alteans. To trick it, however, and to isolate it to one sector only, I have to hack into the main—" Faced with two equally blank looks, Pidge sighs in defeat. “Fine, no details for you heathens. But I'm working on it, okay? Stuff like this takes time, even for someone like me."

There's no doubt that someone not like Pidge wouldn't be able to do it all, but Lance doesn't say it out loud. Mostly because Pidge is already aware of the fact. But also because Hunk chooses that moment to point at the monitor. "Guys, I detect movement."

Feeling like a spy in an action movie, or a cop on a stakeout mission minus the donuts, Lance leans closer to observe. Hunk and Pidge are right there with him.

Upon discovering they’ve been locked in—about an hour ago, apparently, though it sure feels so much longer—and with comms conveniently disabled, both Shiro and Keith seemed to just accept the situation, writing it off as another castleship malfunction. Of which they had many recently. Keith tried to look for an exit at first, but then Shiro placed a hand on his shoulder and said something about patience and the team having to look for them, eventually. Just like that, Keith had settled.

They’ve been doing mostly nothing since then. Shiro took it upon himself to sort through a pile of miscellaneous space junk dumped on top of a sleek white desk in the corner, going through each item with meticulous care, pausing only to show Keith the weirdest of baubles he uncovers. They would talk then, often side-tracking back to their days at the Garrison and, for some reason, the surrounding desert. Something about hoverbikes and the mechanics involved.

The only one who misses the wistful, appreciative looks that Keith throws at Shiro’s broad back far too frequently is Shiro himself.

Who is now evidently done and moving to sit next to Keith on the tiny loveseat in the centre of the room. “Hey, Keith?” he says. “I didn’t really get to thank you, for last night.”

Keith shifts a little, adjusting to make space for Shiro. Still, their shoulders are touching, and Shiro, at least, has definitely noticed. “Don’t mention it.”

The sound that comes out of Shiro’s mouth is anything but an actual laugh it’s supposed to be. “I can’t imagine my nightmares being very fun to witness.”

“I’m not the one who has to live with them.”

“Maybe not, but…”

It’s Keith turn to touch, hand curling gently on Shiro’s thigh. "Shiro, it’s fine." His voice is so impossibly soft Lance wants to close his eyes and cover his ears, as if he’s witnessing something he shouldn't have. One look at Hunk confirms he's already doing that. “I want to help. And if having someone else sleep in your room is what makes it even slightly easier… I’ll do it, for as long as you need me to.”

Pidge, on the other hand, has a very panicked expression on her face. And whatever put it there is probably the only thing preventing both her and Hunk from realising that Lance’s earlier assumption about Keith and Shiro sleeping together just might’ve been off. Slightly.

 _Oops_.

“What is it, Pidge?” Hunk asks through the gaps between his fingers.

“It’s not just someone,” Shiro says on the monitor even though no one’s paying attention anymore. Except Keith. “It’s _you_. And I—”

The lights explode in blaring blinding reds. Somewhere far, the distinct sound of Coran screaming is louder than any disabled alarm. And Shiro’s no doubt sappy and heartfelt words are drowned in the gush of water as overhead sprinklers come to life all at once, in multiple corners throughout the castle. Starting with Lance’s.

Pidge bangs her forehead against the wall, with feeling.

“Turns out Hunk was right. We shouldn’t have been doing this when the castle is functioning on merely a fraction of its power. Also, Alteans? _They suck_.”

 

-

 

Alteans have nothing on Keith, Lance thinks miserably, when not even two hours later, Keith dares to meet Lance in the pool elevator, completely shirtless.

The only thing that saves him from being punched in the face is Zarkon’s attack.

And then he goes and escapes in a pod, in the middle of the night. _With Allura._

“I can’t believe this!” Lance fumes in his seat, arms crossed. “All my good intentions, all my careful planning, and this is the thanks I get? Selflessness is dead. _Dead_.”

“You motives weren’t _exactly_ selfless, though. All the single ladies, remember?”

“That’s beside the point, Hunk!”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. I was in for the wedding cake. Mmmm, cake.”

From his vigil at the command centre, where circles and constellations are moving rapidly as Coran keeps searching frantically for their lost princess, Shiro asks, “What are you two talking about?”

It’s a mistake, because it reminds Lance that one of the culprits is still very much present. “You!” He stands up, finger pointing in Shiro’s direction. But keeping far enough away. “I thought he was supposed to be in love with you!”

“What. _Who_.”

“Keith! I even got him shirtless, just for you. But did you notice?”

“Oh, he noticed,” Pidge chimes in gleefully, then goes back to typing furiously, ignorant of the blush spreading across Shiro’s cheekbones. Or maybe just taking less obvious pleasure from it, saving her teasing for a perfect moment later.

Lance squints. “Here’s the deal: you love Keith, Keith loves you. But Keith’s an idiot and right now, he’s in a pod—a very tiny pod—with the most beautiful female in the galaxy. And it sure doesn’t seem like he’s planning to come back. If he even can.”

“He’s the most skilled pilot I know. There’s nothing he can’t do,” Shiro defends absent-mindedly and most naturally, because of course he does.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Lance groans, “Are you guys listening to him? Hearing what I am? _Is he_?”

“You know it’s bad when Lance has a point,” Pidge chimes in again, this time not even pausing in her typing.

Hunk nods vigorously in agreement. “It’s truly painful to watch.”

Even Coran raises his head from the console. “We Alteans have beautiful wedding traditions that I will be most happy to share with you. When you finally make that move, of course. Or any move, really.”

Shiro buries his burning face in his human hand.

“Contact the pod. Please.”

 

-

 

In the end, Lance’s only mistake is the ridiculous thought that having their feelings broadcasted loudly for all to see would somehow make Keith and Shiro less obvious and ridiculous and gross.

He very quickly learns that is not so.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I can be found screaming and crying about sheith on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kirinokisu) and [tumblr](http://kirinokisu.tumblr.com).


End file.
